Paper-Thin Ghosts
by Laura of Maychoria
Summary: After a practice match at a local school, Yamaguchi runs into some old enemies. Fortunately, Tanaka-senpai is protective of his kouhai.


"Oi, Yamaguchi, where are you going?" Tsukishima tilted his head to emphasize the question, though his voice was his usual lazy drawl.

Yamaguchi waved a hand behind him, still walking quickly down the hall away from his team. "Just to fill my water bottle. I'll be right back."

"Kay." Tsukki didn't raise his voice to be heard, even though Yamaguchi was already halfway down the hall. "Don't be long. The bus is waiting."

Yamaguchi waved again, then passed his hand over his forehead, wiping away the residue of sweat. The practice match they had just finished had been intense. Coach Ukai had rotated the players so everyone could get some experience. Even though he'd only been on the court for maybe a quarter of the time they played, he was still worn out, his body buzzing with an adrenaline let-down. He really needed that water.

He turned his head this way and that, looking for a water fountain. He'd never been to this school before, even though it wasn't that far away from Karasuno and where he'd grown up. Their volleyball team wasn't exactly impressive, but the Karasuno club had still taken them seriously and done them the honor of playing full-out. Yamaguchi's throat still burned a little with cheering from the sidelines for his team.

At last, he spotted a fountain around a corner from the hall that led outside to the bus. Yamaguchi's steps quickened as he made a beeline for the water, and once there he bent over the blessed thing and sucked in as much as could before leaning back and holding the empty bottle under the flow. His feet moved restlessly as it slowly filled, dancing with the awareness that people were waiting for him.

There! Close enough. Yamaguchi turned away from the fountain, fumbling with the loose top of the bottle, his fingers sliding on the wet plastic. He was already half-running, head down as he worked to close the clumsy thing.

And then he ran straight into a solid chest and bounced off, the water bottle slipping out of his hands and spilling all over the tiled floor. Yamaguchi gaped at it in dismay for a moment, then looked up to see who he had run into, an apology already leaping to his lips. "I'm very sorry, please forgive me..."

The words died as he felt his eyes widen. There were three of them, three high school boys, two of them taller than he was, the third broader in the shoulders. They weren't from the volleyball team here, but Yamaguchi still recognized them. He felt the blood drain from his face.

They looked different now, taller, more built, the baby fat melted away from their features, their limbs more proportionate to their bodies without the lanky awkwardness of elementary-age youth. But he knew them; he knew them well. He had tried to forget, but he'd never managed it.

Maybe they wouldn't recognize him, though. It had been years, maybe they didn't...

After a moment of stunned silence, the tall blond one smiled, wide and smug and vicious. "Well, if it isn't little Yamaguchi Tadashi. What are you doing here, pimple face?"

No. No, of course they recognized him. All of the confidence and excitement Yamaguchi had carried with him from the match burned away in a second as the three started to advance on him, smiling those awful, pleased smiles, so happy to have found him again, so happy to have discovered easy prey once more. He remembered those smiles, too. Sometimes he feared that they would never stop haunting his dreams, his moments of self-doubt.

Yamaguchi backed up, looking anxiously at the wet floor as he went. If one of them slipped, that might give him an advantage, a moment when he could run. They followed, and he hoped, but the moment never came. Their thick-soled sneakers kept them safe, and his heart thudded in disappointment.

They were still coming closer, backing him up toward the wall. Yamaguchi glanced behind him at the blank white expanse. If he let them chase him all the way there, he'd be trapped. He pivoted on his foot instead, keeping the open hallway behind him. They might try to circle around and cut off escape, but at least he had a chance.

"Hey, you didn't answer my friend's question," the broad-shouldered one said, lifting his chin and making a face that reminded Yamaguchi, absurdly, of Tanaka-senpai. But Tanaka had never frightened him, even at his most belligerent and intimidating. Yamaguchi had always known that Tanaka was a good person and would never hurt any of them, no matter how often he liked to shake his fist and threaten Tsukki with a pounding for being such a brat.

"What are you doing here, Tadashi?" the broad one repeated. He poked a finger at Yamaguchi's face, making his entire body flinch in fear. "You don't belong here. Didn't we make that clear? You don't belong anywhere near us."

"I...I'm with the Karasuno volleyball club," Yamaguchi said, his voice a high squeak. He tried to control it. Couldn't. "We—we came for a practice match with your school. We're done now. We're leaving. I just wanted some water."

The third one raised his eyebrows. "Is that so, Tadashi? You just wanted some water?" He looked around at the mess on the floor, his movements exaggerated and mocking. "Did you find any?"

The broad one tsked. He'd always been the meanest one, Yamaguchi remembered. The leader, the one the others took their cues from. Even though most of his mind had gone as blank and white as that wall, even though Yamaguchi couldn't even remember their names—he'd at least been able to forget that much—he remembered that. He remembered this boy as a short grade schooler, trying to intimidate Tsukki and failing utterly when Tsukki loomed over him with that cool stare of his. Adolescent height and breadth had not diluted his cruelty at all, it appeared. A stronger, larger body had only made him more confident in his right to lord it over those who were weaker than himself.

"Look at this mess you made, Tadashi," the broad one said now. He toed at Yamaguchi's water bottle, rolling hollow on the floor, and kicked it over to him. "Look at this mess you made all over our nice school. You should really clean it up, Tadashi."

Yamaguchi had always hated that, how they had made his first name into a weapon used without permission. They had taken it and used it for their own purposes, just as they had done their best to take other things from Yamaguchi, too—his confidence, his pride, his self-image. It had taken him a long time to build himself back up from what they had torn down.

Now he clenched his fists and stared back at his childhood tormentors, determined to stand firm. He was different now. He was older, he was tougher. He wouldn't let them push him around. He'd been startled when they first appeared, that was all. He wouldn't let them have their way anymore.

"Didn't you hear what I said?" The broad one's voice had gone quiet and deadly. He pointed at the water bottle at Yamaguchi's feet. "Pick up your trash, Tadashi. Don't litter in our nice school. And then you'd better clean up that mess, Tadashi. With your tongue, if that's all you have. Tadashi."

Yamaguchi grit his teeth. Slowly, deliberately, he knelt down on one knee and picked up the water bottle. It was his, after all, and he wouldn't leave it behind. He didn't break eye contact with the broad one for the entire time. Slowly, deliberately, he straightened, pushing himself to his full height, and faced them all dead on. He said nothing. If his fingers trembled around his water bottle, he prayed that they didn't notice.

The broad one did not take kindly to his defiance. By the time Yamaguchi stood straight, he was fuming, his mouth pulled down into a prodigious frown, his forehead furrowed. And it wasn't even as forbidding as the face Kageyama made while contemplating the vending machines. Yamaguchi's cheeks twitched as he repressed a hysterical smile at the thought. His heart was pounding loud and fast, his head spun, and he was pretty sure he was about to pass out. But if they hit him, he would laugh.

They were nothing. They were paper-thin, childhood ghosts, the monsters behind closet doors and under beds. He was scared, and there were three of them, and if they wanted to they could beat him quite badly. But they were nothing. They were nothing.

"Now clean up your mess, Tadashi," the broad one said, still pointing at the floor. "You'll regret it if you don't."

Yamaguchi breathed hard and fast for a moment. Then he shook his head.

The broad one clenched his fist and started to raise it.

"Hey, now, what's all this?" a growling voice suddenly demanded, directly behind Yamaguchi's right shoulder. He startled helplessly when a heavy arm draped itself around his shoulders, and he looked over to find Tanaka's grimacing face leaning in next to his own. Tanaka stared down the bullies, his expression an equal mixture of disgusted and unimpressed.

"What's this I heard you saying to my kouhai?" he asked, tugging Yamaguchi closer into the orbit of his arm. His other hand spread in a gesture of disbelief, and his posture was loose and ready, bouncing on the balls of his feet as if he was ready to drop into a fighting stance at the first word he didn't like. "I think I heard you trying to order my kouhai around, but that couldn't be right, could it? I'm sure you know better than to try something like that. Don't you?"

The broad one recoiled a little, sneering. He backed off enough that Yamaguchi almost let himself hope that he might not get beaten up today. His lip twisted as he looked Tanaka up and down. "Who the hell are you? What business is it of yours?"

"Who am I?" It didn't seem possible, but Tanaka's arm actually got heavier around Yamaguchi, holding him anchored where he stood. The hand hanging over Yamaguchi's shoulder clenched so tight that he could hear the bones creak. Tanaka's voice sank from the almost playful tone he had adopted earlier, growing low and dark and dangerous. "I'm Yamaguchi's senpai. We're teammates. We just finished beating the hell out of your school's volleyball club, for what it's worth, but I'm guessing you're not much into sports, are you?"

He looked the other guy up and down, his lip curling. Then he made a small, dismissive noise.

All three of them bristled like angry cats. The broad one clenched his fist and dared to step into Tanaka's personal space, glaring into his face. The others backed him up. "You're a liar." He spat on the floor between them. "There's no way wimpy, scrawny little Tadashi could ever be of value to a sports team. _Any_ sports team."

A snarl ripped out of Tanaka's throat, startling and ferocious. He removed his arm from Yamaguchi's shoulders and took one step forward, standing between Yamaguchi and the bullies. His back was broad and tall and tense, and Yamaguchi blinked at suddenly being presented with it. He tilted his head over far enough to keep an eye on what was going on. So this was what it was like to be Hinata. It was pretty ridiculous, since he was actually a couple centimeters taller than Tanaka, but he wasn't going to fight the intense feeling of _safety_ that suddenly swept over him.

Tanaka held out an arm to keep him back, behind him. "That's where you're wrong," he said, fierce and sure. "Yamaguchi is the best pinch server on this or any other team. He might not stand on the court as much as some of us do, but when he's there, he makes it better. When he's not, we're grateful to know that he's available to back us up, and he's _never_ let us down. He's valuable, all right. He's more valuable than you will ever be to anyone, you sorry sack of _shit."_

Tanaka sniffed at the frozen look on their faces, a smirk beginning to pull at the side of his mouth that Yamaguchi could see. "But you don't even know what those words mean, do you? You don't know anything. You'd be better off not commenting on matters that are so high over your head. And you're just lucky that Yamaguchi's the kindest kouhai I've ever had, which must be why he was able to restrain himself from ripping your throat out as you so richly deserve."

That was a bit too much. The blond one stepped up beside his buddy, fist clenched and face pulled into an ugly grimace. "Yeah, right, like Tadashi could ever..."

"You wanna go?" Tanaka roared, stepping closer to the guy, his face only centimeters away from the blond's. "We can go right here! Or we can take it out to the parking lot, where the rest of our team will be _delighted_ to help me beat you all to a pulp for daring to speak to our teammate the way you've done."

The blond went pale and took a step back, visibly gulping. Tanaka switched his attention to other two and repeated his offer. "Wanna go? Right here, right now? I'll be happy to show you what kind of team Yamaguchi belongs to now, and just how utterly _pathetic_ you are for ever believing you had any right to push him around."

They flinched and backed up, grimacing. Still, the broad one couldn't help clenching a fist and shaking it in their direction. "Tadashi's still a wimp, needing to hide behind a stupid delinquent like you!"

"That's _Yamaguchi_ to you." Tanaka took one swift step toward them, raising his fist, and they all flinched back in comical unison. Tanaka smiled devilishly. "Yamaguchi_-san._ Don't you dare use his first name ever again, you bastard sons of shit. You sully it with your stink. You're just lucky I showed up in time to hold him back. You have no idea what we can do to you!"

"You...you're bluffing..." the third one piped up, defiant to the end, but his voice wavered uncertainly.

"Wanna find out?" Tanaka drew himself up, and somehow his average height and build seemed all at once taller than Tsukki, broader than Asahi, fiercer than Nishinoya, and more forbidding than Kageyama.

They held their ground for a few more seconds, quivering like dried leaves in a too-strong breeze. Then Tanaka lifted one foot and stamped it down, and they scattered, paper-thin ghosts blown away by a heavy breath.

"The monk look is seriously lame!" the broad one yelled over his shoulder as they ran.

"Tanaka Ryuunosuke, not at all pleased to meet you," Tanaka called back, laughter in his voice. Then he turned to Yamaguchi, grinning broad and happy, like a little kid who had just won a race. He was all but glowing with accomplishment and victory.

"Hey, sorry I interrupted whatever was going on there." He slung his arm around Yamaguchi's shoulders again, but this time his touch was much lighter, congratulatory instead of protective. He started leading the way back to the bus, and Yamaguchi walked with him, his knees still shaking faintly. "I'm sure you could have handled them. I kinda got carried away."

Yamaguchi shook his head, looking sideways at Tanaka's grinning face. He couldn't believe how happy and exultant the guy looked after a confrontation like that. "They were gonna beat me up. I would have fought back, but they would've won." His voice fell and he looked down at the floor, watching the tiles pass by underfoot. "They've won before."

"Hnh." Tanaka's arm tightened around him. "Yeah, I thought that bastard was talking like he knew you. But he doesn't." He halted and pulled Yamaguchi around to face him, holding his upper arms in a firm grip. His expression was suddenly earnest, utter and completely sincere. "They don't know you. They don't know anything."

Yamaguchi closed his eyes and pulled in a deep breath, feeling himself steady. His grip on his (still empty, damn it) water bottle felt firm again, and his knees no longer wanted to buckle beneath him. He opened his eyes and gave Tanaka a nod, certain and sure. "I know. They're nothing. Just petty little jerks. They're probably still at school this late in the afternoon because they got held back or something. They're not even worth thinking about anymore. They don't deserve another second of my attention."

Tanaka grinned, broad and sharp and happy. "Yeah, that's it. That's exactly right."

He started them walking again, one more time wrapping his arm around Yamaguchi's neck, dragging him in to touch their temples together for a second. "Hey, do you like ice cream? We should stop by the Foothill Store when we get back to Karasuno. I'll treat you."

"Yeah, I like ice cream."

In another couple of minutes they were back at the bus, and the team erupted into noise and movement at their arrival. ("Whoo! Now we can go home!" Hinata yelled, leaping into the air. "Where have you been?" Daichi demanded. "I was about to send a search party!" "What happened?" Suga asked, smacking Tanaka's shoulder and ruffling Yamaguchi's hair. "You were gone forever!") Tsukki watched their approach with narrowed eyes, and Yamaguchi flushed. He'd figure it out on his own or he would ask a couple of questions and it would all be laid bare—there was no point in trying to hide it, much as Yamaguchi might have liked to.

Tsukki said nothing, though, just offered Yamaguchi his own (half-full) water bottle once they were on the bus. "You look tired," he said, and Yamaguchi nodded, gratefully sinking back into the seat beside him. Tanaka was being twice as loud as usual on the bus, maybe still hyped up from the near-fight, maybe deliberately trying to draw attention away from Yamaguchi so he could retreat and regroup the way he so desperately needed to. Either way, he was thankful.

When they arrived back at Karasuno and Yamaguchi woke from his nap, raising his head to realize that he'd been sleeping on Tsukki's shoulder, neither of them said anything. He felt good, though, rested and strong, his mind clear. As they left the bus, Tsukki stated simply that he was going to walk home with him today, and Yamaguchi nodded. They stopped at the Foothill Store with the team first, though.

The ice cream was really delicious.

**End**


End file.
